


Rule one about fight club, don’t talk about fight club

by Yellowbirdbluetoo



Category: Hilda (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Marra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27463642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellowbirdbluetoo/pseuds/Yellowbirdbluetoo
Summary: Being a Marra is like, being in a secret club, and only those in the club can understand what it’s like.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Lindsay

**Author's Note:**

> I just think the Marra are neat *shrugs*

Lindsay Torres blinks her eyes open, as the clock on the wall across from her ticks to 11 pm. The moonlight streams through the window next to her bed and she sits up, reaching over to silently grab her glasses from the cluttered nightstand next to her. 

The room was quiet, save for the soft breathing of her foster ‘siblings’ in the beds next to her. They shared a rook sure, but siblings they were not. She only just tolerated a few of them. 

She stood quietly, passing by Alex, who she’d heard had been here the longest. They shared a nod. He never asked where she went, and she never asked when he would sneak out either. 

She pulled shoes out from under her bed and opened the window, freezing when it gave a low creak, relaxing only when she was sure no one had waken up. She tossed her boots out and dropped down next to them onto the grassy lawn of the old foster house. 

She laced them up as quickly as possible, and made her way through the familiar path to the woods. Squeezing through a alleyway here and hoping a fence there. 

“Hey!”. She was startled and she approached the entrance to the forest. 

Malia stood, leaning nonchalantly against an old tree, distracted by her phone. “Your early too?”. 

Lindsay nodded and Malia met her with a similar one and the two began to walk together, deeper into the woods. 

-/-

Being a Marra, Lindsay thought, was a lot like being in a club. A secret club, but a club nonetheless. At her old school she’d been in the schools art club, and she couldn’t help but draw similarities. Meetings and rule. Although the obvious supernatural difference made things a bit more confusing.

It came natural to her, devouring people’s nightmares every other night. She was surprisingly good at it for a newbie, some of the others had told her. 

Making people’s dreams into nightmares and savoring every last drop of fear she could squeeze out of them. And then making everyone laugh with the stories of how pathetic the dreamers screams of terror were. Priceless. 

Being a Marra came with an immediate set of friends as well. She hasn’t attempted to be friends with anyone outside of them, she wasn’t even sure if she was allowed. 

Sasha, a year older than her, had simply said ‘Marra stick with Marra’ one day when they all sharing a table at the cafeteria for lunch. She’d accepted it fully. 

Besides, how would explain to anyone else the way her eyes just seemed to barely glowed in dark lighting, how she walked so lightly at times it could be described as floating, how people woke up from class naps screaming when they sat too close to her? 

Best to stick to her own kind. 

She gave a snicker as Wendy, from her spot next to her on the old log they’d pushed to make a makeshift bench around their magical fire, told of how she’d made an old man run out of his in fright that it was burning to the ground.


	2. Wendy Matthews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendy is known for having the best nightmares- sorry, making the best nightmares.

Wendy Mattews is an only child. She had two living parents, and lived in a crowed suburban city were the skyscrapers touched the stars and the people came to become them.

Her parents, loving and kind, had let her go out with her friends for her 15th birthday. All by herself, no supervision. She had hugged them in delight as she practically ran out the door to meet her friends at the nearby mall to spend up all her birthday money.

She came back to a burned down building, firefighters and nothing left of her life besides the meaningless things she’d bought at the mall.

-/-

Her only living relative, an old bat that was supposedly her grand aunt, took her in- in the same way one would supposedly take in a houseplant- occasionally water it just enough to make sure it doesn’t die, then forget about it for another week until it actually does.

She’s glad the Marra found her, actually. 

She had avoided everyone else in her new school, ignored her work, was failing three classes and tending to glower at anyone who attempted to look her way. 

Looking back, she was basically begging to be indoctrinated.

Elizabeth had approached her confidently, not scared off by her glaring and scowls. Told her to meet her in the woods if she wasn’t a coward and sashayed off.

-/-

Maybe it was dumb, in hindsight to meet a random stranger in the woods. At night. Without telling anyone where she was going.

She hoped for a quick death as she made her way deeper into the sense and trees.

-/- 

It’s addicting really. The high of that first night. Of making other people suffer in their dreams. Her specialty, when she’s feeling unnecessary cruel, is making people suffer the same way she did. 

She wakes up, screaming for her family and goes to make other people do the same. 

She created pictures of burning homes and and possessions. Leaves nothing but ash. And then they wake up with a scream and she feels lighter than she did before.

Was it a bit fucked up? Maybe. Did she care? Absolutely not. 

What was wrong with a little fun? Not like anyone was actually getting hurt anyways. 

Besides, seeing people begging for help when she knew no fire trucks or ambulances would come made her feel sick inside. But next to the sickness she felt a feeling she couldn’t really describe. All she could say was that it made her feel better.

And what was so wrong with that? 


End file.
